23. One of the Forty Methods of Escape of the Duc de Beaufort.
Meanwhile time was passing on for the prisoner, as well as for those whowere preparing his escape; only for him it passed more slowly. Unlikeother men, who enter with ardor upon a perilous resolution and grow coldas the moment of execution approaches, the Duc de Beaufort, whosebuoyant courage had become a proverb, seemed to push time before him andsought most eagerly to hasten the hour of action. In his escape alone,apart from his plans for the future, which, it must be admitted, werefor the present sufficiently vague and uncertain, there was a beginningof vengeance which filled his heart. In the first place his escape wouldbe a serious misfortune to Monsieur de Chavigny, whom he hated for thepetty persecutions he owed to him. It would be a still worse affair forMazarin, whom he execrated for the greater offences he had committed. Itmay be observed that there was a proper proportion in his sentimentstoward the governor of the prison and the minister--toward thesubordinate and the master.
Then Monsieur de Beaufort, who was so familiar with the interior of thePalais Royal, though he did not know the relations existing between thequeen and the cardinal, pictured to himself, in his prison, all thatdramatic excitement which would ensue when the rumor should run from theminister's cabinet to the chamber of Anne of Austria: "Monsieur deBeaufort has escaped!" Whilst saying that to himself, Monsieur deBeaufort smiled pleasantly and imagined himself already outside,breathing the air of the plains and the forests, pressing a strong horsebetween his knees and crying out in a loud voice, "I am free!"
It is true that on coming to himself he found that he was still withinfour walls; he saw La Ramee twirling his thumbs ten feet from him, andhis guards laughing and drinking in the ante-chamber. The only thingthat was pleasant to him in that odious tableau--such is the instabilityof the human mind--was the sullen face of Grimaud, for whom he had atfirst conceived such a hatred and who now was all his hope. Grimaudseemed to him an Antinous. It is needless to say that thistransformation was visible only to the prisoner's feverish imagination.Grimaud was still the same, and therefore he retained the entireconfidence of his superior, La Ramee, who now relied upon him more thanhe did upon himself, for, as we have said, La Ramee felt at the bottomof his heart a certain weakness for Monsieur de Beaufort.
And so the good La Ramee made a festivity of the little supper with hisprisoner. He had but one fault--he was a gourmand; he had found thepates good, the wine excellent. Now the successor of Pere Marteau hadpromised him a pate of pheasant instead of a pate of fowl, andChambertin wine instead of Macon. All this, set off by the presence ofthat excellent prince, who was so good-natured, who invented so drolltricks against Monsieur de Chavigny and so fine jokes against Mazarin,made for La Ramee the approaching Pentecost one of the four great feastsof the year. He therefore looked forward to six o'clock with as muchimpatience as the duke himself.
Since daybreak La Ramee had been occupied with the preparations, andtrusting no one but himself, he had visited personally the successor ofPere Marteau. The latter had surpassed himself; he showed La Ramee amonstrous pate, ornamented with Monsieur de Beaufort's coat-of-arms. Itwas empty as yet, but a pheasant and two partridges were lying near it.La Ramee's mouth watered and he returned to the duke's chamber rubbinghis hands. To crown his happiness, Monsieur de Chavigny had started on ajourney that morning and in his absence La Ramee was deputy-governor ofthe chateau.
As for Grimaud, he seemed more sullen than ever.
In the course of the forenoon Monsieur de Beaufort had a game of tenniswith La Ramee; a sign from Grimaud put him on the alert. Grimaud, goingin advance, followed the course which they were to take in the evening.The game was played in an inclosure called the little court of thechateau, a place quite deserted except when Monsieur de Beaufort wasplaying; and even then the precaution seemed superfluous, the wall wasso high.
There were three gates to open before reaching the inclosure, each by adifferent key. When they arrived Grimaud went carelessly and sat down bya loophole in the wall, letting his legs dangle outside. It was evidentthat there the rope ladder was to be attached.
This manoeuvre, transparent to the Duc de Beaufort, was quiteunintelligible to La Ramee.
The game at tennis, which, upon a sign from Grimaud, Monsieur deBeaufort had consented to play, began in the afternoon. The duke was infull strength and beat La Ramee completely.
Four of the guards, who were constantly near the prisoner, assisted inpicking up the tennis balls. When the game was over, the duke, laughingat La Ramee for his bad play, offered these men two louis d'or to go anddrink his health, with their four other comrades.
The guards asked permission of La Ramee, who gave it to them, but nottill the evening, however; until then he had business and the prisonerwas not to be left alone.
Six o'clock came and, although they were not to sit down to table untilseven o'clock, dinner was ready and served up. Upon a sideboard appearedthe colossal pie with the duke's arms on it, and seemingly cooked to aturn, as far as one could judge by the golden color which illuminatedthe crust.
The rest of the dinner was to come.
Every one was impatient, La Ramee to sit down to table, the guards to goand drink, the duke to escape.
Grimaud alone was calm as ever. One might have fancied that Athos hadeducated him with the express forethought of such a great event.
There were moments when, looking at Grimaud, the duke asked himself ifhe was not dreaming and if that marble figure was really at his serviceand would grow animated when the moment came for action.
La Ramee sent away the guards, desiring them to drink to the duke'shealth, and as soon as they were gone shut all the doors, put the keysin his pocket and showed the table to the prince with an air thatsignified:
"Whenever my lord pleases."
The prince looked at Grimaud, Grimaud looked at the clock; it was hardlya quarter-past six. The escape was fixed to take place at seven o'clock;there was therefore three-quarters of an hour to wait.
The duke, in order to pass away another quarter of an hour, pretended tobe reading something that interested him and muttered that he wishedthey would allow him to finish his chapter. La Ramee went up to him andlooked over his shoulder to see what sort of a book it was that had sosingular an influence over the prisoner as to make him put off takinghis dinner.
It was "Caesar's Commentaries," which La Ramee had lent him, contrary tothe orders of the governor; and La Ramee resolved never again to disobeythese injunctions.
Meantime he uncorked the bottles and went to smell if the pie was good.
At half-past six the duke arose and said very gravely:
"Certainly, Caesar was the greatest man of ancient times."
"You think so, my lord?" answered La Ramee.
"Yes."
"Well, as for me, I prefer Hannibal."
"And why, pray, Master La Ramee?" asked the duke.
"Because he left no Commentaries," replied La Ramee, with his coarselaugh.
The duke vouchsafed no reply, but sitting down at the table made a signthat La Ramee should seat himself opposite. There is nothing soexpressive as the face of an epicure who finds himself before a wellspread table, so La Ramee, when receiving his plate of soup fromGrimaud, presented a type of perfect bliss.
The duke smiled.
"Zounds!" he said; "I don't suppose there is a more contented man atthis moment in all the kingdom than yourself!"
"You are right, my lord duke," answered the officer; "I don't know anypleasanter sight on earth than a well covered table; and when, added tothat, he who does the honors is the grandson of Henry IV., you will, mylord duke, easily comprehend that the honor fairly doubles the pleasureone enjoys."
The duke, in his turn, bowed, and an imperceptible smile appeared on theface of Grimaud, who kept behind La Ramee.
"My dear La Ramee," said the duke, "you are the only man to turn suchfaultless compliments."
"No, my lord duke," replied La Ramee, in the fullness of hi
s heart; "Isay what I think; there is no compliment in what I say to you----"
"Then you are attached to me?" asked the duke.
"To own the truth, I should be inconsolable if you were to leaveVincennes."
"A droll way of showing your affliction." The duke meant to say"affection."
"But, my lord," returned La Ramee, "what would you do if you got out?Every folly you committed would embroil you with the court and theywould put you into the Bastile, instead of Vincennes. Now, Monsieur deChavigny is not amiable, I allow, but Monsieur du Tremblay isconsiderably worse."
"Indeed!" exclaimed the duke, who from time to time looked at the clock,the fingers of which seemed to move with sickening slowness.
"But what can you expect from the brother of a capuchin monk, brought upin the school of Cardinal Richelieu? Ah, my lord, it is a greathappiness that the queen, who always wished you well, had a fancy tosend you here, where there's a promenade and a tennis court, good air,and a good table."
"In short," answered the duke, "if I comprehend you aright, La Ramee, Iam ungrateful for having ever thought of leaving this place?"
"Oh! my lord duke, 'tis the height of ingratitude; but your highness hasnever seriously thought of it?"
"Yes," returned the duke, "I must confess I sometimes think of it."
"Still by one of your forty methods, your highness?"
"Yes, yes, indeed."
"My lord," said La Ramee, "now we are quite at our ease and enjoyingourselves, pray tell me one of those forty ways invented by yourhighness."
"Willingly," answered the duke, "give me the pie!"
"I am listening," said La Ramee, leaning back in his armchair andraising his glass of Madeira to his lips, and winking his eye that hemight see the sun through the rich liquid that he was about to taste.
The duke glanced at the clock. In ten minutes it would strike seven.
Grimaud placed the pie before the duke, who took a knife with a silverblade to raise the upper crust; but La Ramee, who was afraid of any harmhappening to this fine work of art, passed his knife, which had an ironblade, to the duke.
"Thank you, La Ramee," said the prisoner.
"Well, my lord! this famous invention of yours?"
"Must I tell you," replied the duke, "on what I most reckon and what Idetermine to try first?"
"Yes, that's the thing, my lord!" cried his custodian, gaily.
"Well, I should hope, in the first instance, to have for keeper anhonest fellow like you."
"And you have me, my lord. Well?"
"Having, then, a keeper like La Ramee, I should try also to haveintroduced to him by some friend or other a man who would be devoted tome, who would assist me in my flight."
"Come, come," said La Ramee, "that's not a bad idea."
"Capital, isn't it? for instance, the former servingman of some bravegentleman, an enemy himself to Mazarin, as every gentleman ought to be."
"Hush! don't let us talk politics, my lord."
"Then my keeper would begin to trust this man and to depend upon him,and I should have news from those without the prison walls."
"Ah, yes! but how can the news be brought to you?"
"Nothing easier; in a game of tennis, for example."
"In a game of tennis?" asked La Ramee, giving more serious attention tothe duke's words.
"Yes; see, I send a ball into the moat; a man is there who picks it up;the ball contains a letter. Instead of returning the ball to me when Icall for it from the top of the wall, he throws me another; that otherball contains a letter. Thus we have exchanged ideas and no one has seenus do it."
"The devil it does! The devil it does!" said La Ramee, scratching hishead; "you are in the wrong to tell me that, my lord. I shall have towatch the men who pick up balls."
The duke smiled.
"But," resumed La Ramee, "that is only a way of corresponding."
"And that is a great deal, it seems to me."
"But not enough."
"Pardon me; for instance, I say to my friends, Be on a certain day, on acertain hour, at the other side of the moat with two horses."
"Well, what then?" La Ramee began to be uneasy; "unless the horses havewings to mount the ramparts and come and fetch you."
"That's not needed. I have," replied the duke, "a way of descending fromthe ramparts."
"What?"
"A rope ladder."
"Yes, but," answered La Ramee, trying to laugh, "a ladder of ropes can'tbe sent around a ball, like a letter."
"No, but it may be sent in something else."
"In something else--in something else? In what?"
"In a pate, for example."
"In a pate?" said La Ramee.
"Yes. Let us suppose one thing," replied the duke "let us suppose, forinstance, that my maitre d'hotel, Noirmont, has purchased the shop ofPere Marteau----"
"Well?" said La Ramee, shuddering.
"Well, La Ramee, who is a gourmand, sees his pates, thinks them moreattractive than those of Pere Marteau and proposes to me that I shalltry them. I consent on condition that La Ramee tries them with me. Thatwe may be more at our ease, La Ramee removes the guards, keeping onlyGrimaud to wait on us. Grimaud is the man whom a friend has sent tosecond me in everything. The moment for my escape is fixed--seveno'clock. Well, at a few minutes to seven----"
"At a few minutes to seven?" cried La Ramee, cold sweat upon his brow.
"At a few minutes to seven," returned the duke (suiting the action tothe words), "I raise the crust of the pie; I find in it two poniards, aladder of rope, and a gag. I point one of the poniards at La Ramee'sbreast and I say to him, 'My friend, I am sorry for it, but if thoustirrest, if thou utterest one cry, thou art a dead man!'"
The duke, in pronouncing these words, suited, as we have said, theaction to the words. He was standing near the officer and he directedthe point of the poniard in such a manner, close to La Ramee's heart,that there could be no doubt in the mind of that individual as to hisdetermination. Meanwhile, Grimaud, still mute as ever, drew from the piethe other poniard, the rope ladder and the gag.
La Ramee followed all these objects with his eyes, his alarm everymoment increasing.
"Oh, my lord," he cried, with an expression of stupefaction in his face;"you haven't the heart to kill me!"
"No; not if thou dost not oppose my flight."
"But, my lord, if I allow you to escape I am a ruined man."
"I will compensate thee for the loss of thy place."
"You are determined to leave the chateau?"
"By Heaven and earth! This night I am determined to be free."
"And if I defend myself, or call, or cry out?"
"I will kill thee, on the honor of a gentleman."
At this moment the clock struck.
"Seven o'clock!" said Grimaud, who had not spoken a word.
La Ramee made one movement, in order to satisfy his conscience. The dukefrowned, the officer felt the point of the poniard, which, havingpenetrated through his clothes, was close to his heart.
"Let us dispatch," said the duke.
"My lord, one last favor."
"What? speak, make haste."
"Bind my arms, my lord, fast."
"Why bind thee?"
"That I may not be considered as your accomplice."
"Your hands?" asked Grimaud.
"Not before me, behind me."
"But with what?" asked the duke.
"With your belt, my lord!" replied La Ramee.
The duke undid his belt and gave it to Grimaud, who tied La Ramee insuch a way as to satisfy him.
"Your feet, too," said Grimaud.
La Ramee stretched out his legs, Grimaud took a table-cloth, tore itinto strips and tied La Ramee's feet together.
"Now, my lord," said the poor man, "let me have the poire d'angoisse. Iask for it; without it I should be tried in a court of justice because Idid not raise the alarm. Thrust it into my mouth, my lord, thrust itin."
Grimaud prepared to c
omply with this request, when the officer made asign as if he had something to say.
"Speak," said the duke.
"Now, my lord, do not forget, if any harm happens to me on your account,that I have a wife and four children."
"Rest assured; put the gag in, Grimaud."
In a second La Ramee was gagged and laid prostrate. Two or three chairswere thrown down as if there had been a struggle. Grimaud then took fromthe pocket of the officer all the keys it contained and first opened thedoor of the room in which they were, then shut it and double-locked it,and both he and the duke proceeded rapidly down the gallery which led tothe little inclosure. At last they reached the tennis court. It wascompletely deserted. No sentinels, no one at any of the windows. Theduke ran to the rampart and perceived on the other side of the ditch,three cavaliers with two riding horses. The duke exchanged a signal withthem. It was indeed for him that they were there.
Grimaud, meantime, undid the means of escape.
This was not, however, a rope ladder, but a ball of silk cord, with anarrow board which was to pass between the legs, the ball to unwinditself by the weight of the person who sat astride upon the board.
"Go!" said the duke.
"First, my lord?" inquired Grimaud.
"Certainly. If I am caught, I risk nothing but being taken back again toprison. If they catch thee, thou wilt be hung."
"True," replied Grimaud.
And instantly, Grimaud, sitting upon the board as if on horseback,commenced his perilous descent.
The duke followed him with his eyes, with involuntary terror. He hadgone down about three-quarters of the length of the wall when the cordbroke. Grimaud fell--precipitated into the moat.
The duke uttered a cry, but Grimaud did not give a single moan. He musthave been dreadfully hurt, for he did not stir from the place where hefell.
Immediately one of the men who were waiting slipped down into the moat,tied under Grimaud's shoulders the end of a cord, and the remaining two,who held the other end, drew Grimaud to them.
"Descend, my lord," said the man in the moat. "There are only fifteenfeet more from the top down here, and the grass is soft."
The duke had already begun to descend. His task was the more difficult,as there was no board to support him. He was obliged to let himself downby his hands and from a height of fifty feet. But as we have said he wasactive, strong, and full of presence of mind. In less than five minuteshe arrived at the end of the cord. He was then only fifteen feet fromthe ground, as the gentlemen below had told him. He let go the rope andfell upon his feet, without receiving any injury.
He instantly began to climb up the slope of the moat, on the top ofwhich he met De Rochefort. The other two gentlemen were unknown to him.Grimaud, in a swoon, was tied securely to a horse.
"Gentlemen," said the duke, "I will thank you later; now we have not amoment to lose. On, then! on! those who love me, follow me!"
And he jumped on his horse and set off at full gallop, snuffing thefresh air in his triumph and shouting out, with an expression of facewhich it would be impossible to describe:
"Free! free! free!"